


Change

by helpmeimstuckon



Series: FitzSimmons Drabbles [5]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff, but only sort of angsty, kinda angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-17
Packaged: 2018-02-25 17:46:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2630732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helpmeimstuckon/pseuds/helpmeimstuckon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Things have to change. That's how they get better.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Change

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pulling apart my drabbles in to single chap fics in the same series. This was #5

“So, this is a lot cozier than the Bus.” The Scot’s voice sent a rush over her, there had always been something about his voice that made her go weak. Even more so recently, with all the anger and fire added behind his tone.

“Yes, I guess you can say that.” Simmons turned and smiled at the man brooding in her door way. He never smiled anymore, didn't think he had need to, she guessed. “Though you could argue that the distance makes it cold.”

They had all been assigned rooms. She was about as far from him as could be, the only person further was Coulson, who apparently got his own suite half way across the bunker. Fitz was stuck all the way down the hall way next to May. Skye was next, she had commandeered a room for ward next to hers, followed by Triplett and then Jemma. Triplett had promptly said good night to all (despite the time of day) and shut himself in his room to sleep. Jemma calculated that it had been over 3 days since he had had a good rest. Longer for the man in front of her.

“I don’t know. You seem fairly close to certain people.” His eyes flickered to the adjoining wall, his scowl deepening. Jemma sighed. She didn't get why Fitz was so strongly hated the agent. She knew that Fitz didn't like her relationship with the specialist. She knew he really didn't like the specialist in question at all. But the why he would ever be as uncomfortable as he is she didn't understand. Green eyed monster gnawing at you, Fitz? Some part of her brain crooned. No, she shot back, it’s never been that for him. He doesn't want that. I think.

“Fitz, please…”

“No, you ‘please’ Jemma. How could you? All you’ve done for the past day is let him walk all over me. Walk all over us. You let him storm in to our lab, all muscle and vibrato and then let him talk like he knows anything. Like he knows this team. Like he know you. And every word he said, no matter my protest, you backed like it was nothing. Like I was nothing.” He had moved in to the small room. His voice was tight with pent up anger and stress, she could feel it rolling off of him in waves.

The backs of Jemma's knees were pressed against the bed. “Fitz, take a breath. You know that you are important to me…”

“Am I?” Fitz took another step towards her. “Because time and time again you have taken stupid risks.” His volume rose as his thoughts spilled from his lips. “You have made decisions without thinking about the consequences, without thinking about me. The first person on my mind whenever I do anything with this team is you. And you go jumping out of planes and throwing yourself at grenades without thinking.”

“All I ever do is think about you!” She took a step toward the slightly taller man. “Every risk I've taken, every chance, every sacrifice has been for you. Everything is for you, Fitz. Do you think I jumped out of a plane for May, for Coulson? I jumped because I knew the pulse would kill you. Do you think I threw myself at that grenade for Skye, for Ward? I did it because I can’t bear to think of a world where Leopold Fitz isn't building it better!”

“But I wouldn't be! I’m nothing without you.” His voice dropped when he realized what he had admitted. “I wouldn't go on living without you Jemma. I would break. You have always put me back together. Through everything. I've spent the last three months waking up to nightmares of you gone.” At some point his hands had found her waist, and hers his chest. “You can’t imagine a world without me, it looks like empty days doing lab work, ya?” She nodded, heart pounding at the accuracy of his words. “When I even try to do that for you it all goes black, Jemma. A world without you doesn't exist, not for me.”

She wasn't sure when she started crying. She knew she was now and closed her eyes to try and stop the flow. One of his hands brushed over her cheek swiping away the liquid there. She buried her face in to his shoulder and they stayed like that for a good long while. When she finally pulled away she saw his mirrored hers in redness.

Tell him, her mind crooned. Tell him everything. All the stolen thoughts and glances, the secret dreams, the desire, the nightmares…

“I get them too.” Giving in to the persuasion. “The nightmares.”

He looked at her his eyes begging her to go on. She could always tell what he wanted with just a glance. Well, almost always.

“I see your face as I fell. Over and over. I can hear you scream my name.” Her eyes got far away. “I could barely hear you over the wind, but I heard that. I heard you.” Her eyes started to tear up once again. “Losing you, Fitz, I wouldn't be the same person.” She pulled back and plastered a small smile on her face. “I’m surprised I haven’t woken you all. I wake myself up screaming most of the time.”

What Fitz didn't have the heart to tell her is that she did. He had held her through the thrashing, and muffled her cries against his shoulder, every night for months, and she never remembered the next day. He thought she didn't remember the night mares. Prayed she didn't, he would rather have her oblivious to his attempts of making it better than aware of her terror. His praying was in vane it seemed.

“I don’t know how to stop them Fitz. I’m scared to even sleep anymore.” She muttered.

“I know.”

“What do I do?”

“I don’t know.”

Silence overtook them. He wanted to hold her. She wanted to be held.

“What did you mean when you said that it’s too late for things to, uh, not change?”

Jemma lifted her head toward him, and took a step, nullifying any space that had been left. “What are you asking?”

“I just… Why do things have to change? I don’t want us to change Jemma. I want us to be okay. Better than okay.”

“We can. I just meant that… our situation, SHIELD, the bus, this team. Fitz, we might have to leave. Things could get bad and as much as I care for these people… I’m not risking us for them, ever.” She shifted to face him head on, deciding that if they were having this conversation then they were having this conversation. But despite her determination her eyes retreated to her hands in her lap. “Fitz I… I don’t ever want to be away from you. I want you next to me. The whole damn time, I need you to be there. I… I love you, Fitz.” She faltered and raised her eyes to him, her pupils blown. “I won’t, Fitz, lose you. I won’t let us change, but if I need to change the situation for our sake… I will not hesitate. SHIELD is gone. Changed forever, but we, we are not.”

“But we have been Jemma. We've been out of sync. Something had been off. Some variable thrown in that affected the thing that make this work, and we both know who that is. You want to trust him Jemma. I know you do, but when you are so insistent on trusting someone we hardly know, someone who could be a traitor for all we know, when you are trying to believe in the new guy how can you remember to believe in me?”

Simmons realized that she mattered so much more to Fitz than she had realized in that moment. That he worried about her belief the same way she did. She couldn't even think of the right thing to say. All of his fears, fears that mirrored her’s so perfectly, were laid out in front of them. She wanted to tell him not to be afraid. She wanted to tell him that he was everything to her. She wanted to tell him so much. Words were failing her, but her lips stayed true.

She leaned in and softly pressed her lips to his. It started slow, exploring the other side of the boundary that had been so carefully drawn. Then they picked up, making up for years of missed opportunities, wondering why they drew that stupid line in the first place. Jemma fingers found his hair, running her fingers through the curls. He tasted like hot tea and mint. His face was scratchy and all she wanted to do was leave kisses down his jaw. His arms wrapped around her waist just a little too tight, just a little too eager. He spun them around and let them fall on to the bed. She smelled like home, like cinnamon and something uniquely her. Lips pulled and parted, not a battle like kisses too often are, but a dance. Perfectly in sync again.

After what felt like a forever, a wonderful beautiful forever, passed, before Jemma pulled away. Smiles broke across their faces and they laughed the giddy sort of laugh you get from roller coasters and kissing.

They went back to silence. Let herself fall against his chest. His fingers ran through her hair. Her fingers trailed swirls across his collar bone. The last thing she can remember is whispering, “I love you, Leo,” in to his collar and hear him respond before drifting off.

“I love you, Jemma. I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> A huge thanks to my Beta, Tori, pandalandalopalis on tumblr. I would be shit with out her.   
> Also I'm not entirely sure if this fits in my plot because in my head (and in something in the works) nightmare work differently for them but... well we'll see.


End file.
